


The Four Fiends

by NesMira



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:42:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22211989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NesMira/pseuds/NesMira
Summary: She remembered Harriet at night, amid closed eyes and starry skies. Harriet was a dream and a girl long forgotten. Yù Jìn Sun was alive, the daughter of a General, and gifted with the ability to bend fire. She could not live the life of a dead girl, even if her magic lined her bones.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 132





	The Four Fiends

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**_A New Life_ **

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_In which Yù Jìn Sun wakes remembering an old life._ ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Yù Jìn Sun.

That was the name she had been given by the woman who now held her bumbling body. It was not a name familiar to her. Something had changed since she woke here, but she could not remember what. She did not dwell long on it. Her body, smaller than she ever remember it being, was filled with the heavy ache of life.

Yù Jìn let the woman rock her into a lulling sleep filled with hazy dreams of night skies and floating candles.

The warmth of the sun was what woke her the following morning. She could blearily see her surroundings. Her eyes were covered with the thick film of birth and would not grow any clearer for weeks. Her mother came shortly after she woke, black hair falling over her shoulder like a layer of silk.

Mother’s eyes were a startling amber, crinkled at the corners as she coo-ed at Yù Jin. Though her aim was off, Yù Jìn tried to grasp at the fingers reaching into her crib.

The image of another woman, horribly young, with hair the color of fire danced across her mind and Yù Jìn cried and cried. This was not her life. She should not be here. The woman (not mother, she had a mother) picked her up, rocking Yù Jìn against her heart. Steady thudding filled her ears, warm breath caressed her hair. Harriet, she had been Harriet once. Now, she was nothing. Reborn. With a mother who was warm and alive and held so tight that Yù Jìn could feel her heart against her tiny chest. 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Yù Jìn forgot about Harriet in the years that followed her birth. Sometimes that other life flickered like a picture book in her mind but was quickly forgotten among the new memories that rattled her brain. Death was kind enough to let her forget all the pains buried in her old life.

Instead, she waddled on white sands following the man who was her father to the ocean. Her tiny legs were still a nuisance to her, but she had developed surprising patience with this new world.

“Bàba” she shouted, stretching her legs to catch up to his long strides. Her mother laughed behind her. She slipped into the cool water, laughing as a lion-eel slipped between her legs.

“Zhi, don’t let her go in too deep,” Māmā called, holding a hand to her brow to block out the sun.

The sun beat down on the long stretches of beach and forest that covered Ember Island. Yù Jìn found that she preferred stretching out in the warm sands and napping the days away. She would happily trade the rain clouds and town called London for Ember Island any day.

“Should we catch some fish?” Bàba asked, kneeling to her level. Yù Jìn nodded, clapping her hands excitedly. Fish meant cooking and cooking meant fire-bending.

While Bàba struggled with his net, attempting to snatch the fish out of the water, Yù Jìn sat down in the wet sand. Warmth filled her chest, and with it the echo of power she once held. A fish waded into the low tide and right into her hands as if it had heard her calling. Delighted, she lifted it up, shouting to her father. He turned in surprise, looking from the water to the wiggling fish in her hands, and laughed.

Once they had caught three decent sized fish, Bàba lifted her from the water and ran back to Māmā.

“Yawen,” Bàba called, stretching her mother’s name. Māmā looked up from the book she was reading with a raised brow.

“You’re the firebender. And the soldier, I’m not gutting any fish,” she said.

Bàba scrunched his nose and lowered Yù Jìn to the floor. Māmā swept her up, drying her off with a thick towel and slathering sunscreen on her body.

“Don’t let Bàba pull you into his schemes. He wants to have all the fun without doing all the hard work,” Māmā whispered.

“Fun is fun,” Yù Jìn whispered back with wide eyes. Māmā pinched her cheeks tightly, laughing as Yù Jìn swatted at her hands.

They walked over to her father, who had scaled and gutted the fish with quick efficiency. There was a driftwood readily available on the beach. This was the Fire Nation and no party was complete without a bonfire.

“Come here, Yù-a,” her father called, holding out his hand. She moved over, grasping his hand tightly. A fire flared brightly in his palm, the red-orange flames swaying in the air.

“Breath in,” he instructed. She did so, feeling the warmth rising like the sun in her gut. He cupped her hand, moving the flame into her palm.

“Breath out.” The flame grew, dancing gently before her. It felt as if she was holding her own heart in her hand. This was not like the magic of her old world, which had been bright and distant like the stars, something that was hers and not hers. It had been bigger than herself and a power weighed with the responsibility of saving the world. She had not had the chance to enjoy the wonder in magic.

Firebending felt as natural to her as breathing. Her mother’s hand rubbed her back while her father looked down, pride shining in his eyes. Yù Jìn loved them so much it hurt at times.

Bàba took back the flame, lighting the driftwood and setting the fish to cook.

“Should we take a trip to Caldera? It’s been a while since we stepped foot in the Capital,” her father asked, pulling her mother down onto his lap. Yù Jìn rolled over, pressing her face against Bàba’s knee.

“What do you say Yù-a? Do you want to go on Bàba’s ship?” her mother asked, pinching her elbow.

“Hmm, is it far?” Yù Jìn asked.

“The Capital? A couple of days,” her father answered.

“Is it fun?”

“I’ll be there, so of course.”

“Is Grandma there?”

“No, Grandma is off enjoying the wonders of the world with all the money she has.”

“Can I go with Grandma, then?” she pleaded, turning to look up at him with wide eyes. Bàba laughed, shaking his head at her.

“Don’t you want to see the prince and princess?”

“I don’t care about them,” she scowled. Yù Jìn remembered when they had visited two years ago, the princess was recently born, and the prince was a drooling three-year-old. Yù Jìn had spent the entire time avoiding his slobbering. Lu Ten was by far a better visitor despite being twice her age. He could at least speak in full sentences.

“We’ll find you a firebending master to teach you properly,” her father said, poking her side. Yù Jìn scowled knowing that she would not turn down that deal.

“Fine.” Her parents laughed, ducking their heads at her fierce scowl.

Yù Jìn fell back into the sand, starting up at the setting sun.

She would protect them, this life, as much as she could.

She would not lose them, not again.


End file.
